Cut, cut, cut

Some of you might have guessed from this post (not that I was terrifically discreet) that something big was coming for me in the arts and crafts department. Well, yesterday, everything finally came together.

What happened was, the creative director of our newspaper's luxury magazine saw one of my popup buildings and asked me if I could make some for the Christmas issue, which would feature some really, really, really pricey fountain pens. In a moment of hubris, I said yes.

After the meeting with the photographer, I spent most of my spare time drawing buildings and cutting models. I also sat through three howtoarchitect playlists (1, 2, and 3) in one day for tips and ideas.

I also spent a day with Highlife's production assistant, Nina, going to stores and picking out pens to feature. It is a little ridiculous to walk into one of those stores, ask for the most expensive thing they have, and be taken seriously.

There are more photos from the shoot here, and I'll be posting the actual shots in a week or so. It depends on whether I can sit on them till the magazine actually comes out.

I am trying to play it cool at the office, but inside, I am kind of panicky about the whole thing. None of the work is as great as I'd like it to be. On the other hand, it was nice to be asked to spend a day on something that I really, really love to do.

Baby steps, I guess.

In this picture, you can see the backs of Kathy Chua, photographer, and her assistant Eric. They are cool people, and Adphoto is a cool agency.

Morning Sun to Flake - Eodermdromes

After Petra posted these eodermdromes, I decided to give the pattern a try. This is what I've come up with:

build a house
build we light
house we
a light build

fall to morning fall
sun flake
morning sun to flake
fall

old love cut old
the rest cut the love
rest old

This is just how I feel.

This

is just how I feel.

This is just

how I feel.

This is just how

I feel.

This is just how I

feel.

This

is just how I fell.

This is just

how I fell.

This is just how

I fell.

This is just how I

fell.

--

I don't really know what that is; it came out of a sentence I wrote in my diary today--and the second verse (?) came out of a typo. The more I look at it, the more I'm certain that this isn't the first time somebody's done that, and I wouldn't be surprised if they used the exact words. (Please don't sue me. Rent and bills are bad enough.)

The last time I tried poetry--if you  would call it that; I wouldn't--the editor of the publication I sent it to told me, gently, "You can still write prose." But I felt like putting this up, just to let you all know I'm alive.